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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28534776">a burning hill</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxrapikaz/pseuds/kxrapikaz'>kxrapikaz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>hxh mitski crossover [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Childhood Trauma, Death, Gen, Help, Hurt No Comfort, Kurapika is 12, Not Happy, POV First Person, Pre-Canon, The Kurta Clan Massacre (Hunter X Hunter), kurapika pov, mitskiposting AGAIN, sorry - Freeform, this isnt a fun one sorry men, who knew, yep yup this one is a vent probably</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:02:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28534776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxrapikaz/pseuds/kxrapikaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I do not think that I have a home anymore. Once, I would have laughed if somebody told me that I would find myself in this situation, but now all I think I want to do is weep. My home has been reduced to dust, as have my parents; their empty eye sockets burn into my body, black and swirling and stormy in their skulls. They stare at me, judge me, and I do not think I have ever hurt more in my life. My heart only grows heavier, and I feel it pulse and throb high in my throat. I feel as though I am going to vomit.</p><p>cw for vomit, mentions of gore and blood</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>hxh mitski crossover [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056617</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a burning hill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>With heavy feet and a heavier heart, I trudge ‘home’, my thoughts discordant and inchoate. An insipid winter chill bites at my face, gnawing at my cheeks with sharp teeth and sharp tongues that flick hungrily, greedily at my flesh. I do not have the energy to tug up my collar. Snow shifts half-melted underfoot as the tip of my boot kicks at it, making slow piles of the stuff in my wake; I do not know what month it is, what day it is, or what time it is. All I know is that I am so, so tired. My lungs ache and burn, seizing with every inhale, and at this point I am too exhausted to even attempt to distinguish whether it is from fatigue, exertion, or the curling tendrils of black smoke that wind up from the ground and meander around me. My village lies crumbled at my feet, reduced to black ash and debris, painted a bloody crimson and eyeless portrait, and for once, I find myself alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I do not think that I have a home anymore. Once, I would have laughed if somebody told me that I would find myself in this situation, but now all I think I want to do is weep. My home has been reduced to dust, as have my parents; their empty eye sockets burn into my body, black and swirling and stormy in their skulls. They stare at me, judge me, and I do not think I have ever hurt more in my life. My heart only grows heavier, and I feel it pulse and throb high in my throat. I feel as though I am going to vomit. Bile rises quickly, burning the already raw skin of my mouth as it spills past my lips; for an awful, terrible split-second, it looks black in the quickly dimming twilight, and I worry that I have become the demon that outsiders think I am. Am I a demon? Am I even </span>
  <em>
    <span>human </span>
  </em>
  <span>anymore? I don’t think I want to know the answer. I dry-heave outside what used to be my family home, and I feel hot tears etch themselves into my cheeks. They only make my eyes burn more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wonder if my family had cried, just as I am. I wonder if my family had wept woefully, creating a sickeningly pitiful sight for the troupe that snatched their lives along with their burning red eyes, and I feel the nausea begin to bubble inside me again; my head spins, and my skin crawls and itches, and I feel a burning hotness creep between my flesh and my clothing. It is painfully uncomfortable here, but I cannot bring myself to move. My feet remain firmly fixed to the ground, and though my knees quake and tremble and threaten to give out beneath me, I still cannot shift myself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So instead, I allow myself to slowly sink to the ground. My eyes have since turned incarnadine, reflecting the empty gaping gashes that lie taunting and cruel across my mother’s face and my father’s torso, and all I can do is cry and plead. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>bitches be like reads the word incarnadine in macbeth and then goes apeshit until they can find somewhere they can use its me im bitches</p><p>anyway i hope this one actually shows up in tag listings bc i dont think that drifting time misplaced did..... either that or you are all maephobic and i hate u /j</p><p>also new mh update soon i prjomise</p></blockquote></div></div>
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